Family is Constant
by Ileana Mackenzie Collins
Summary: Especially in loss, Dick Grayson is never alone.
1. Family

Ever since I was 8, I considered them my family. Alfred and Bruce. Alfred and Bruce and Barbara. Alfred and Bruce and Barbara and Jason. Alfred and Bruce and Barbara and Jason and Tim. Alfred and Bruce and Barbara and Jason and Tim and Damian.

Alfred and Bruce and Barbara and Jason and Tim and Damian and Wally and Roy and Kaldur and Conner and M'gann and Artemis and Zatanna and Racquel and...well, you get my point.

I, Dick Grayson, am the biggest testament to how your family isn't limited to the one you're born into. I was embraced into a Wayne and was welcomed with the capes but before all that, I was a Grayson, - now am the only Grayson - a Haly, a circus acrobat.

"I'll be taking a few nights off next week," I told Batman; his back, anyway. I wasn't asking permission so the small lapse in his typing was enough of an acknowledgement.

Tim looked up from tinkering on his bike. "You? Taking days off? Got something up your sleeve?"

Bruce is known for his tall, dark, and mysterious brooding while my trademark is the laughter and the mischief. So, I pulled up the corners of my lips and smiled. "Just always watch your back, Timmy."

Planning an extravagant prank was added to my chapter of things to do. _P.S. Check on Jason if he would like to participate._

I hurriedly went upstairs, doing my best to avoid getting caught by Alfred wearing my uniform in the Manor. I've been itching for a shower and when I safely reached my bedroom, I locked the door.

* * *

"Grayson," Damian piped from outside his brother's bedroom door. "Gordon wants to know if you'll be joining her spar anytime in the near future?" Nothing. "Grayson!"

"Master Damian!" Alfred chided at the young boy's yelling as the more-grandfather-than-butler roamed the Manor's halls, "Please refrain from any unnecessary outburst in this house. I'm sure Master Dick will be with you in a minute."

"I have been knocking for a good 6 minutes, 12 seconds and counting, Pennyworth. Grayson's sudden lack of punctuality is beyond unprofessional." Damian tutted in response. "His door is locked, as well. Very odd for a buoyant man like Grayson."

Alfred furrowed his brows. "Why, that _is_ very odd." Producing a master key from one of his hidden pockets (where do you think Batman got the utility belt idea?), he proceeded to unlock the door.

* * *

I didn't know what to expect, seeing them again. My family.


	2. Tsera

**So I'm actually pretty proud of this fic. And I'm also pretty proud to have found a English-Romani translator of sorts. I've been searching for ages and it's a miracle to have come across the site.**

 **Here's a quick vocabulary. Some terms are already defined as the conversation flows.**

 **Droby tume Romale - traditional Romani greeting**  
 **Nais tuke - Thank you (response to said traditional greeting)**  
 **Miro prala - my brother**  
 ***funeral comment**

* * *

I didn't know what to expect, seeing them again. My family.

We haven't seen each other in years but just even catching them at a distance, it already felt like home. I'm surprised that I got caught off guard by this that my eyes uncontrollably teared.

"Dick!" A careless laughter followed the accented voice. "Has America turned you soft?" A chorus of laughs responded and I found myself slipping into an easy smile.

Raya was the first to reach me, engulfing me in a tight hug which I eagerly reciprocated. _We missed you so much,_ she whispered in Romani; her voice breaking. "Droby tume Romale."

It felt real good to hear my mother tongue from a native after so many years. "Naise tuke." _I missed you more,_ I replied.

The next few minutes were rounds of more hugs and cheery greetings. I felt the layers of the fun but rigid fearless leader slowly peeling away as I stepped back from the crowd.

"You have grown much much," one of our strongmen, Hans, commented, clasping me on the shoulder. "You sound different too."

"America has gotten to him, brother," Freud replied, laughing. "I hear Dick's always under the spotlight there."

"I've got magazines to prove it!" Tatiana, one of the few other North Americans, added before I could deny anything.

While everyone else were exchanging stories, another hand laid on my shoulder and I turned to find Oak. The wild hair he'd always flaunt was cropped short now and it's hilarious how much he'd changed. How much _we've_ changed. I gave him a heartfelt hug.

"Welcome back, _miro prala_ ," Oak said, sporting a giant smile on his face, "It's good to see those baby blues again. My, my, you look so much like Uncle John." Raya slipped her arm through mine, offhandedly commenting on Oak's new hair and we quickly fell into an easy, familiar conversation.

But amidst the joy of the reunion and the loud laughter all around, you can still feel it in the air. Taunting. It was there when I officially left the circus and now when I'm back.

 _Mulo._ Death.

* * *

Bryan Haly took a deep breath. "I distinctly remember when I was a kid, I asked Pa, 'Why does everyone call you Pop when I'm your only kid?' There were tears in my eyes then because I couldn't understand."

Dick fidgeted in his seat, balling his hands into fists on his thighs then curling and uncurling them again and again as Bryan spoke. Gently, Raya laid her hand on top, stilling his for the rest of the ceremony.

Dick still remembers his laugh, how he'd help look for a young Dick when he was too lazy to practice in the morning. Pop Haly would always bring special chocolate candy and he'd give Dick one at every hour he practices.

Dick remembers the last time he swung the trapeze with Pop Haly's introduction. He'd been Dan Danger then, but still, Pop knew. He knew everything and was proud of him.

Dick squeezed Raya's hand on his, realizing the tears on his eyes.

"My father said with pride, 'Everybody calls me Pop because this circus is _tsera…_ family.' And growing up with a dozen brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles proved that. We are gathered here today, his circus kids, even when most of us had grown to live somewhere else, to say," Bryan looked to the casket before him then to the skies, tears escaping him, "' _We love you, Dad._ We'll miss you. Akema mukav tut le Devlesa." _I now leave you to God.*_

* * *

Dick has had his number of emotionally trying times. He'd thought all his experiences from overcoming those will help him now but even as he swallowed the cold, bitter beer Raya gave him, he felt the grief settle a little bit deeper in his chest, hollowing him out.

Oak and Raya had left him to himself to meet the latest members of Haly International Travelling Circus they haven't yet. It was fine, Dick assured them. It was fine, he lied to himself.

He wandered the park outside the small church they held the funeral in. People were buzzing inside, preparing to head to the cemetery for the burial. Dick took the last swig of his beer and sat on one of the rusty swings. The sun shone brightly upon them and the air stale but he shivered, cold inside.

Every memory he had of Pop Haly flashed before him - the small games of tag when the circus is quiet, his dares with other kids on who loads more boxes, his tight and tearful hug when Dick was staying at Gotham indefinitely. They stayed in touch, of course, through letters and e-mails, especially after Dick's Dan Danger stint when they were both free to delve on his night life. But they're encounters were limited to Skype and the times Dick flew his brothers to catch Haly's – several but not enough.

The first Boy Wonder dropped the bottle on the soft grass and desperately dried the tears on his face.

Suddenly, a familiar touch grabbed his hand. Instead of Raya, as he'd expected, a halo of vibrant red hair and warm blue green eyes greeted him. "Barbara," a whisper escaped him.

The redhead offered a small caring smile as she was engulfed in a tight hug. "Du' dera." _I'm sorry for your loss._ Dick couldn't help but smile a little at her mispronounced Romani. She spoke to her oldest friend's ear with understanding, "You could've told us, you know."

Dick unwrapped himself with confusion. "Us?" Then from the distance, he sees them. A collection of black hair and an arrangement of blue to green pairs of eyes. All fidgeting in formal attire.

His dysfunctional family.


End file.
